


Hey There Delilah

by Shaderose



Series: Shaderose's Febufluff! [12]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: And sings him to sleep, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bittersweet, Day 12, Febufluff, Gay Harley Keener, Harley misses him too, Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Longing, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter misses harley so much, Sad Peter Parker, Sadness, Sung to sleep, hurt/comfort???, i think so, maybe???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose
Summary: Peter misses Harley, and cant sleep.--Day twelve of Febufluff: "Sung to Sleep"
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: Shaderose's Febufluff! [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618495
Comments: 12
Kudos: 171





	Hey There Delilah

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a bit sadder than the others, folks. Not crazy sad, just a bit bittersweet.  
> As soon as I heard this song, I got this idea, and I just had to write it. The song just works so well with Parkner ugh
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :))
> 
> Song: Hey There Delilah by Plain White T's (any words in bold are the song lyrics)

Peter turns in his bed for what feels like the hundredth time, squeezing his already shut eyes as he tries to force himself into unconsciousness to no avail, feeling frustration add to the many already swirling emotions in his chest. Adding to the _ache_ that feels like a chasm in his body, open and gaping, like someone took a piece of his heart away, and hid it where he couldnt find it.

The only issue with that was that Peter _did_ know where that piece was, where that piece is. It's in buttfuck nowhere, also known as Rose Hill, Tenneesee, placed in the hands of one country boy, of the love of his life. Placed in the hands of one _Harley Keener_.

Peter tosses again, groaning and rubbing at his face as tears begin to well up. It has been exactly three months, 12 days and 10 hours since he's last seen his boyfriend, and Peter wants to believe that he was doing okay, was living life to the fullest even without his other half by his side, but today, for some odd reason, that small hole in his chest that was there since the day Harley got on that plane had turned into a big, ugly, infected wound that he couldnt ignore no matter how hard he tried to. And trust me, he had _tried_. He had gone to school as normal, talking with Ned and MJ about everything and nothing, gone to his classes, practically aced his tests. Hell, he had even gone on an extra long patrol afterwards, helping an older lady cross the street and stopping a burglar before it was too late. He did _so_ _much_ today, so much _good_ , and yet, here he is, crying over a boy a million miles away, and wishing, hoping, _longing_ to hold him in his arms. To kiss him goodnight and goodmorning, to laugh with him, to watch movies with him, and play board games, to just _see_ him again. And sure, they video called and regular called almost every night, and texted whenever they could, but it just wasn't the same. It didnt make the ache go away, it only made it more pronounced, more noticable.

He _missed_ Harley, so so so fucking much, so much that he didnt know what to do with himself, that he couldnt concentrate completely in school, that he would mess up his moves slightly during training, or would slip easier on patrol. He could feel it everywhere he went, from Queens to New York City, from school to his apartment, from Delmars to the Tower. He could feel it everytime he took a step, everytime he breathed, everytime his heart pumped, it was there. He couldn't escape it, or make it go away, and now that he was lying in bed, doing nothing, left alone to his thoughts, it was _so much worse._

Memories flooded his mind, of lazy summer days spent doing nothing but being cuddled up to each other, a movie playing in background, or days of activity and fun, where they would go out to fairs and parties, hang out with their friends. Of warm nights spend out by a campfire, playing cards and laughing their asses off, drinking out of stolen beer bottles, before they all calm down and just sit back, watching the fire, Harley pulling out a guitar and playing a song, his features illuminated by the glow of the flames, his eyes sparkling in their light and making him look ethereal, and Peter would slowly doze off to the sound of his silky soothe voice, his country twang coming through more pronounced and making the words sound even more gorgeous, even more _perfect_.

God, Peter misses it. He wants it back. He wants all of it back.

His body shakes with a sob that he couldnt contain, before he reaches out without thinking, grabbing at his phone laying on his bedside table. He rips out the charger, ignoring the bright white numbers telling him that it's almost 3 in the morning, and presses the call button on Harleys contact, begging that he picks up.

It rings out three times before his boyfriend picks up, his voice groggy and rougher than usual. "Pete, everything okay? It's 2am."

Peter tries to speak, to reassure him that yeah, he is okay, that he just needed to hear his voice, but the only thing that escapes his mouth is another sob.

Harley sounds much more awake and alert now. "Peter, baby, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No!" Peter is quick to reassure, even as his tone is thick and nasily, even as he sniffles and tries to stop the onslaught of tears that keep running down his cheeks. "No, no, I-I just," he sniffles, before whispering, hiccuping, his voice cracking, "I just miss you so much."

"Oh, sweetheart." Harley sounds breathless, heartbroken as Peter makes another pitiful noise, his body trembling. "Oh baby, it's okay, please don't cry. I'll be back in a few weeks."

He will be, Peter knows that, knows that Harley will be back for christmas break. "I-I know, I just-" He shrugs helpless, staring up at the ceiling with blurry vision and burning eyes. "I miss the summer," he admits shakily, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I miss the warmth, and- and the sunsets, and the campfires, and- and _you_ \- and now, it's so cold, so so cold, and I-I _cant sleep_ , and-"

Peter whimpers, breaking off into sobs again, hearing a small noise coming from his speaker. "Shh, oh Pete, I'm so sorry." And he does sound apologetic, sounds so sad, like he's aching too. "I miss you too baby, so so much. I wish I could be there now, so I could calm you down, and hold you close, kiss you again and again." He sighs wistfully, and Peter hiccups again, curling in on himself and trying to imagine it, Harley coming in through his bedroom door, his long arms wrapping around him and pulling him into his warm chest, tucking his face into Harleys neck as he kisses the top of his head... "Only two more weeks, Pete."

"Two more weeks." Peter echoes back, sounding empty, wiping away the snot and tears on his face. Theres a moment of silent between them, as they both imagine the day they can reunite, the day they can be in each others arms again. "...can you- can you maybe sing me something?" Peter asks softly, still shaking, but starting to calm down as exhaustion starts to pull at his limbs. "Just until I fall asleep?"

"Yeah, yeah I can do that." Harley clears his throat quietly, pausing to think of a song before the soft, soothing tones beginning to ease into the room.

" **Hey there, Delilah,** **what's** **in like in** **New York** **City?** **I'm** **a** **thousand** **miles away, but girl tonight,** **you** **look so pretty, yes you do.** " Peter's eyes start to droop more and more, unconsciously shifting around to get more comfortable. " **Time Square can't shine as** **bright** **as you, I swear it's true.** " A light smile grows on his face as he listens, just allowing the soothing sounds of Harleys voice to flood over him.

" **Hey there, Delilah,** **don't** **you worry about the distance.** **I'm** **right here if you get lonely, give this song another listen,** **close** **your** **eyes** **.** " Peter finally allows his eyes to close, his body starting to relax, his breathing starting to slow. " **Listen to my** **voice** **,** **it's my** **disguise,** **I'm** **by your** **side** **.** " Peter could almost feel Harley beside him, singing gently into his ear, his breath brushing against Peter's cheek, and he smiles even wider, feeling himself slipping away into the deep lull of sleep.

" **Oh,** **it's what** **you do to me. Oh,** **it's what** **you do to me. Oh,** **it's what** **you do to me. Oh,** **it's what** **you** **do to me. What you do to me.** "

Peter doesn't hear it, but Harley sings the song through, and at the end, falling upon deaf ears, a soft murmur of "I love you" and a faint click echoes throughout the moonlit room.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :D


End file.
